Valentine's Day be damned
by dansnotgossipgirl
Summary: How would Dan redeem for a string of bad Valentine's


**Note** : I planned on posting this last Valentine's but I wasn't able to get it done, now here it is. I don't know if there are still DS fiction readers out here, anyway have fun reading :)

* * *

Dan entered the bedroom.

The blinds were drawn out to the sides, brightening the entire room.

Serena was on the phone propped up on her elbows, long legs fluttering in the air along with her hearty laughter. Her tresses carelessly dangled pass the shoulders. She resembled a beautiful disheveled mermaid above the rumbled ivory sheets and turquoise comforter.

She was lovelier during mornings, donned in casual clothes, and completely bare of makeup.

On what he decoded, Blair seemed to be on the other end. She and Chuck were on a well-deserved five day vacation in Barbados, appropriate for eluding the chill in New York. 3 year-old Henry was left in their home on Lexington Avenue with Harold and Roman whom were visiting from Paris.

Padding into the en suite bathroom, his fingers hooked the collar of his sweatshirt and slid it over his head, the undershirt was barely stained with perspiration.

They would also be cruising the Caribbean Sea, if not for Serena's preparation for the movie in London and the deadline of his book proposal.

He stripped the remainder of his clothes and dumped them in the hamper. His body covered in cold sweat. Occasionally, he went on morning runs to array the disarray of his thoughts and release tension from his body per Nate's influence.

He went inside the shower.

Serena appeared in the bathroom and rapped ferociously on the thick glass.

He propelled the door ajar. "Need something?" he asked.

"I need to shower," she said with urgency. "Nate expects me to be at the assembly."

He opened the door wider to let her in.

"I'm not getting in there with you," she said not moving.

He shook his head incredulously. "I'm not getting out."

"Dan!" the knee jerk was almost obvious.

He shrugged. "Either get in, or be late."

"You can't be serious," her eyes rolled in frustration. "Both options mean I'm late."

A playful smirk played on his lips. "Guess, you don't have a choice." He snatched her from the outside into the 12 ft.² shower, making her squeak in protest.

His hand groped the lever and turned it on, fine drops of warm water fell from overhead beating down their heads.

Serena's blonde locks clustered into a darker mass. She fumbled the hem of nightdress, he quickly helped peel it off and threw the wet silky fabric over the partition, producing a fast light splat on the tiled floor.

He grazed his lips along her jaw line, clutching her elegant neck. His thumb impelled her chin, effortlessly angling her face sideways. His other hand anchored on her hipbone.

Her hands slid under his arms, around his chest to the taut muscles on his upper back.

His palm skidded onto her left breast, and pinched the raised nipple, precipitating her to jolt backwards.

Their cries muffled over the purling of water.

Her tongue teased his to chase it back to the warm seclusion of her mouth.

She adorably bumped her nose on his. "It's why this is a terrible idea," she breathed against his open mouth.

He smiled languorously. " Never," he said softly, leaning back to seize her lips again.

Serena's words merely a distraction blended in the soft clinks of metal on ceramic. While his brain ran worst-case scenarios.

He caught the words, _shark_ , _overboard_ , _Chuck_ , _fell_ not in that order, which was alarming. He pictured a sea animal choking on Chuck's enormous ego, _poor fish_.

"Sean seemed nice. Eric really like him, he's cute," she gushed.

Right, because her brother had a sensible judgment. Did the name Asher sound familiar, oh, remember Damien? Both of whom his sister also dated. What did Millennials say? Hashtag BestFriendGoals.

Two months after his graduation, Eric came home with his then boyfriend, but broke up only three weeks in the city, then reconnected briefly with Jonathan. He dated quite a few guys after, now this new guy he had been dating for two months.

"You okay?" Serena pointed at his gray mug, "That's your fourth cup."

Startled, his hand recoiled from his pants pocket. "Fine, I was thinking of my proposal," He hastily said.

Her smile was sympathetic. "You gave up weeks worth of sleep writing it. I'm sure it's great."

He forced a smile, and gulped another of the dark bitter beverage to aid the constant drying of his mouth.

Taking away the Faulkner inscriptions crammed mug, she admonished, "Enough with the coffee."

Bugs crawled inside his stomach, traversing to the tips of his fingers.

The caffeine was making him restless.

She slathered whipped cream on her three tier pancakes and put more red and blue berries on top. She sliced the fork into the cake and shoved the huge chunk in her mouth.

He handed her the napkin.

"We – have seven o'clock reservation at Jean George tonight," said Dan.

Her hand froze from cutting another piece. The stoic expression on her face contradicted the sharpness in her gaze. "You made plans without consulting me," she spat.

"It's Valentines... I thought we could–"

"Since when do we celebrate Valentines?" she said like she swallowed sour milk.

"Let's start today," he said with unaffected tone.

"I can't cancel work just because you have a whole day to waste."

"Serena, I'm sure Nate will be okay if you leave a little early."

"I'll be working all day. I have a scheduled meeting at lunch and an article to write for tomorrow's paper."

No more words, then the chair's feet screeched against the floor. He looked up, and she has vanished into the hall.

He stared at the neglected breakfast in dismay.

Dan grabbed his coat on the couch and trailed behind Serena to the elevator.

She turned to him, her eyebrows raising arrogantly. "I thought your meeting is not until noon?"

He hopped inside before she closed the door on him. "It is," he said, jabbing the button for the lobby. "I need to talk to Nate."

She mostly ignored him until her phone buzzed and the large screen lit up. 12 minutes to 10:00.

He couldn't read the text, however, the accusatory glance she threw at him as she tapped out a reply was pretty telling.

Nate's eyes darted upward. "Tell Maureen I'll be there on Friday," he bid on the phone.

Dan plopped down on the chair opposite his desk.

"Two weeks I haven't seen you and you turned into a mountain man," said his friend, placing the handset on the table.

Scratching his stubble, he deadpanned, "I missed you too."

"I'm surprised you made time."

"Thought I'd stop by before meeting with Alessandra."

"Have you thought of my offer?"

"Not yet," he brushed off. "I need a favor. Serena won't go to dinner because of an article due tomorrow," pause, "I was wondering if somebody else could worry about it."

"The story damning Valentine's Day," Nate said as though he didn't get it. "Frankly, she doesn't have to write it. People want something positive to read about the occasion."

"Dan, I may technically be her boss, but Serena manages her own time and decides on what to write in her section," he said in an indicative tone.

Dan nodded, deciphering his meaning.

Without a warning, Jenny sashayed into Nate's office, the smells of coffee bean and a hint of cinnamon at her heels.

She deposited the recyclable cup and brown bag on the desk. "You said you skipped breakfast, so I brought bagels and coffee." She bent over to kiss Nate on the cheek, and then rested her weight on the table.

"Thanks," his friend said with a bright smile.

He thought he had left Harry's cloak in high school.

As if his sister could hear his thought, she looked behind. "Dan," said Jenny, unperturbed by his presence. "Nate hadn't mentioned you're here, I didn't get you anything," her smile was apologetic.

 _Ah, he was not invisible after all_.

He raised his hand. "It's fine."

She stood up. "I should get going."

"You got here?" said Nate disappointedly.

"I have an interview. I just wanted to make sure you have something to eat."

"Me too, I have to go," Dan said, rising from his seat. "Thanks, Nate."

"Sure."

"I'll see you later," Jenny said to Nate.

They left his friend's private office and stopped by the newsroom.

While his sister exchanged greetings with Serena, he stood in the hall uncertainly, hands heavily pressing into his pockets as he looked over at his girlfriend. "I'll see you tonight?" he asked.

All he got was a noncommittal 'Maybe'.

A gust of wind welcomed them outside.

"What's with you and Serena?" Jenny asked, tugging her lapels close.

His hands relied on the meager warmth, his coat pockets lend. "She's mad I made dinner plans for us tonight."

"Ah, the dreaded Valentine's Day," she said, privy to that detail of his life.

"Yeah," he said, "I wish she would tell me what the problem is."

"You expect her to say 'hey Dan, remember when Blair tried to get us back together, instead I saw you kissing her."

Their feet squashed the sole imprints on the thin layer of snow.

"She can't let our past determine what we could have," he said, hating the thought of Serena still relived the incident in her mind, or worst be affected by it. "Four years, and we're still battling with old issued issues in reticence."

He had forgiven both of them for all of their missteps. He's changed and so has Serena. Why couldn't she do the same for them. When were they going to stop standing on the edge of the precipice.

"Then tell her how you feel." He has tried.

A fleeting silence went by.

He turned his head to her. "You and Nate have plans?" he asked. Their relationship was new, since Jenny had only been back for seven months.

"Just dinner with Sean and Eric." She halted, which made him do the same. She spun toward him. "You and Serena should join us, maybe a group date will take some of the pressure off," her pupils widened in the suggestion, behind was an earnest plea.

He guessed they could all benefit from that, but he can't. "Thank you, but I have something planned."

She signed in regret. "Well, it's a standing offer."

They reached the corner of the building. Now in the subject of Nate's mayoral campaign, while waiting for taxis next to a giant electrical post.

"I still can't believe William has finally convinced Nate." Dan never thought his best friend would ever walk on the path his family had constructed for him.

"I know," Jenny said smilingly. "Imagine the pressure being the mayor's girlfriend." They both laughed.

When their laughter subsided, he turned thoughtful. "What about the Spectator?"

"William has someone to run the office. Transition starts next week, Nate wants his associates to be acclimated to the new management before he took a leave," she detailed. "And he was hoping you'd take the job."

Editor in chief might have been a tad ludicrous offer, nevertheless appreciated.

"He trusts in your editorial instinct," she added using her tone of persuasion. "He wants you in the office once Serena leaves next month."

Serena was a seasonal employee. She went whenever she had to for a movie, and stayed on location for however long the production take. Respectively, he already had five books with his name plastered on the covers, the latest which came out recently has received positive feedbacks and being eyed for adaptation. Beforehand he had two consecutive bestsellers, now working on his sixth and seventh novel with tentative releases next year.

A few inhabited taxis went past.

"I'll talk to him," he said. Perhaps ephemeral journalism in newspapers and magazines, and revising another writer's work were not enough. It was time he had a stable career, definitely not as editor in chief, not yet.

First, he had to discuss it with Serena.

"Aren't you gonna tell me about your interview?" he asked. Jenny had worked in London for more than a year. The company she interned in hired her full-time after she got a diploma.

"Eleanor Waldorf offered me a job."

He blinked unbelievingly. "Wow."

A cab stopped in front of them.

He opened the door for her. "Wait, are you sure you want to work there?" which would also mean working with Blair.

"Yes," her answer was both confident and determined. She ducked inside the car.

"Good luck," he said, closing her door. If that was what she wanted, then he supported her.

"Serena," Dan hollered the instant he stepped out the elevator.

He scanned the room, nothing was amiss except the fresh flowers in the vases in the living room.

When he moved in he had only a nondescript couch and a short table, his work desk and brand new swivel chair, few kitchen necessities, and a sturdy bed. People would call him minimalist, in reality he didn't know many things on interior décor.

Serena took the initiative to dress up the place, and hired professionals, as he provided the money. They redid the walls with new paints, wood panels for the writing room, and brick walls in portions of the whole apartment and half the bedroom. It didn't have the elaborateness of the van der Woodsen's, nor the cluttered fashion of the loft. It has an entirely unique persona. Classy, yet a little ragged, unashamed to be imperfect. Mirrored his and Serena's personalities and suited their needs.

 _It was home_.

The dining table was set, however, the plates were empty, and nothing was cooking.

His lips sprung into a smile. Or burning, considering Serena's knowledge in the kitchen.

Dan pushed the bedroom door open, it was reminiscent of his room 9 years ago. Lit candles crowded both lamp tables, and many stood proud and burning on the sideboard.

Serena was lying on her side clad in a coral dress, half her thighs were exposed down to her manicured toes.

His pulse reached his ears.

He sat on the bed. "Serena," he whispered, skating his thumb on her shoulder.

He captured a whiff of citrus and lavender, either from her or the candles.

Her dark lashes fluttered and her lids gradually opened. "Hi," she croaked, sitting up.

Her palm went to his chest and slender fingers toyed with his second button. "I'm sorry," she said, meeting his gaze. "I canceled the interview, and came straight home."

She frowned. "Your meeting ended this late?"

It was only a quarter past eight, but he was gone since morning and met his agent at noon.

"No, I waited for you at the restaurant," he said, "I called and texted, you weren't answering."

"Oh, I thought, maybe you canceled your reservation." Her face creased, guilt glinted in her eyes. "I haven't seen my phone. I was preoccupied thinking up a better way to apologize."

He slid his hands down the length of her arms. "No need of apology." He motioned her effort with his eyeballs. "Though, this is very nice."

A lazy smile played on her lips. "Also, I had the resident chef cook us dinner. We could call now to have it brought here."

"No wonder our apartment is not in flames." Then he thought of the lighted candles being everywhere, "at least not yet

." His quip earned him a laugh, one of the few sounds that made his soul happy.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "Jenny said we could join them. We could still go," his tone was generous and understanding.

"No," she said, holding his hand. "I prefer to be here with you."

 _Only you_

Their lips touched and their mouths latched. Unhurried and soft kisses urging time to slow.

His arm went around Serena's back as she hoisted herself onto his lap, and straddled his thighs.

She pushed away. "What about dinner?" she asked, trying to control her breathing.

"Later," he huffed, pulling her back in, and then paused. "Should we put 911 on speed dial?" he uttered facetiously, but a part of him wanted to take precaution.

She giggled, "Hush." Then returned to kissing him.

Two pairs of hands and mouths grew frantic and desperate. She started to grind on top of him. His shirt halfway open, thin and dark strands of chest hair on clear view. Serena wouldn't let him shave them because it looked manly according to her.

She froze before she could shove his shirt off him. The droopy eyelids now gaping wide, like the hardcover World Almanac hit the solid ground and woke her up.

On the green silk comforter sat an ostentatious blue box. Serena's knee must have accidentally jostled it out his pocket.

Her jaw went slack. Realization showed in her expression.

His insistence to have dinner where they had their first date. This time he made sure to pronounce things on the menu correctly.

Her head slumped between his neck and shoulder.

A chuckle escaped his throat. Relieved, she wasn't bolting out of the apartment or yelling profanities at him. Those were promising signs.

She emerged from his neck and stared him in the eyes. "I ruined it, didn't I?" she asked, wearing a bashful smile.

"No," his voice was small, "this is just perfect."He sat them up and scooped the tiny box.

The green in her eyes darken in anticipation as he pried it open. It was the simplest diamond ring, still it sparkled gracefully.

"S-Serena," it came out rough against his suddenly dry mouth and the stung in his nose, "will you be my valentine forever?"

Her look was free of questions and doubt. There were only trust and apparent glee.

"Yes," she squealed, followed by succeeding yeses ricocheted from the ceiling to the four concrete walls.

Dan slipped the ring on her finger.

Serena caged his face in her palms and pecked his cheek. "Happy Valentines."

It was their best Valentines yet.


End file.
